


unwanted

by cant



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 16:35:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12708771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cant/pseuds/cant





	unwanted

He never knew quite what to say at the best of times, and when she was throwing accusations at him, he was even more lost. He’d never done those things, nor would he, and he couldn’t stand seeing her so upset over shit he knew she was making up. 

So why was she saying he had? 

Why was she crying and screaming things at him he’d never dreamt of doing? He’d never intentionally hurt her, and if she really thought anyone thought him attractive enough that they’d make him cheat on her, she needed new glasses. He didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what to do except hold on to the bottom of his shirt and tug painfully, hands twisting and grasping at air in a desperate attempt to stim himself out of the panic he was slipping into. 

She kept crying and sobbing, and he kept the tears down. She was exhausted, working herself to death for him. Her softness and kindness were still there, somewhere, but they were buried now under layers and years of thick, grimy hatred. He’d put it there. He knew she hated him. He hated himself too. He just couldn’t stand to know she hated herself just as much. 

He closed his eyes. Reliving that memory wasn’t offering him any answers as to what to do. 

Maybe it was kind of dumb of him to think that she’d appreciate the surprise he’d got for her. He’d held it in shaking hands, standing in the kitchen full of nerves and barely suppressed pain, but topped off with frothy excitement. He thought that telling her he’d been sober for a week would be a nice surprise for her, and that the bath bombs he’d managed to get his hands on for her would make her smile again. 

Fucking stupid. He turned over in the hostel bed. He’d hoped so avidly that he’d maybe melt some of those coarse layers away again and reach what he’d fallen in love with, but maybe that had been a stretch too far. Part of him wished she’d just broken up with him a long time ago or that he’d just died when he had tried so many times to. It would have saved them so much pain. She wouldn’t be at work now, killing herself slowly with stress and worry, and he wouldn’t be lying in a crinkly bed in a hostel, struggling to keep tears off the horrible plastic pillow. 

“Thought she’d like it,” he’d explained to the random lady who’d pretended quite convincingly to care when they had found him. “Thought she’d be happy. I just want her to smile. Just wanted her to love me again.” 

It was all he wanted. He’d thought about it a lot - he didn’t want a house, a car, didn’t want money, didn’t want friends, he just wanted her to love him again. If she did, everything would be brighter and easier, and everything would make sense again. 

But it didn’t, and he was stuck in a room full of noise and people and light and his head hurt and he could barely see for all the things going on. At some point, he’d just become numb to it. If he just stared at the wall opposite and didn’t move, he could pretend it wasn’t happening. 

He supposed it was good that his first port of call hadn’t been that grungy abandoned building, bringing along a spoon and a lighter. That was a start. Maybe she’d appreciate him telling her that much, if she ever spoke to him again. 

He could hear his name. Maybe? It was hard to tell; the room was still so loud, with crying and laughing and conversations all around. A chill put goosebumps on his arms when he thought he could hear her voice. 

“Marcus, puppy, oh, I’m sorry- I thought- I don’t know- I thought- I- I-” 

She was sobbing onto his chest before he knew it and he fought the primal flight response for a minute before he could even register it was Tera. 

“Thought you were at work,” he said quietly, feeling something on his cheek. Moving, tickly. A tear. He didn’t bother getting rid of it. 

“I was,” she sobbed, taking his hand and rubbing his arm, touching him a little too much, making him cringe internally. “I was. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realise you were- I thought you were… I… I don’t know. I was just stressed. I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

Upset. Such a small word for something he felt all the way through him, the kind of feeling that was way too loud and made his chest hurt. It was too loud. He could barely concentrate on her. He tried anyway. She was speaking, but it blended into other voices. It was making his head spin, like he was drunk. 

“C- Can we- go outside?” 

“Are you sure? There’s an, um… There’s a storm.” 

“Oh,” he said. He felt like he was going to throw up. “Was gonna t-tell you… I- I didn’t, uh… I- I… I been sober. F- yeah.” 

Her face lit up. 

18′s world quietened a fraction. 

Tera smiled again. Her whole face completely changed. The layers melted away for a beautiful moment, exactly what he’d wanted in the first place. She was beautiful again and he could pretend she loved him. 

“I’m so proud of you, puppy! Oh, good job! It’s hard, but I knew you could do it! I knew it. I knew it.” 

Who was she trying to convince? He was still a mess. They knew things would get worse before they got better, but they’d both just had enough. They’d had more than their fair share of worse. Better seemed like a long way off. 

“Tera,” he said quietly, unable to look her in the eye. 

“Yeah?” 

“C- can I- can we…” He sighed, breath coming out shaky. “Can you… Hug me?” 

She didn’t seem to register what he’d said for a moment. “Can- can I- Oh, uh…”

A long moment passed - 18 drew his legs up to his chest and stayed there for a while. The only thing he wanted to do was to live back in that horror house with his disgusting mother, and to pretend that none of this shit had ever happened. He could cry and scream and break things all he wanted there, and spend time on trying to figure out if Tera loved him or not. He didn’t exist when she didn’t love him. He was nothing more than a speck in other people’s lives. 

When she loved him, everything lit up and the world made a little more sense. 

“Marcus?” 

His neck felt tense, and his eyes were crying without his permission. Small fingers gently came up to brush through his hair. He’d forgotten how good that felt. It send good shivers down his back, into his fingertips. 

“‘M done, Tera.”

“I- I’m sorry?” 

He didn’t want to repeat it. He was just done. Done with living, with trying, with waiting for her to love him when her face wore the same expression his mother had when she’d told him she wished he hadn’t been born. Even though she kissed his fingers and smoothed his hair, she didn’t want him. Nobody did. He’d have to get used to that again. 

“You need a bath,” she said quietly. 

He wished with all his fragile, broken being that she wasn’t his carer. He wished he didn’t need one, but he was just not normal, not like everyone else. He wanted nothing more than to just be some boring, every day member of society, the kind who didn’t have trouble with looking people in the eye and didn’t have problems whenever the restaurant was a bit noisy. He wished he could look at certain fabrics and not cringe, and he wished he could give Tera the life she deserved. 

Sometimes he wondered if she knew that he was aware she had no love left for him. He’d have to ask.

 

That night, numb all over (not even in pain, which was a start), after a painfully awkward bath where he’d refused to let her near him, they went to bed. Tera took the night off. She didn’t seem to worry too much about that. Used to it. 

“Tera,” he said quietly, pulling the moth-eaten blanket over his ear, trying not to let it touch his neck, “you don’t have to p- pretend y-you… Y’know.” 

“What?” she asked absently, busying herself with writing or drawing something in her notebook. She wouldn’t sleep next to him. “You okay?” 

18 watched her for a moment. She was dying, worse for wear, and it was all his fault. Nobody had ever said their journey would be easy, though he hadn’t thought anything could be quite as difficult as looking over to see his once girlfriend so lifeless. 

“Don’t matter,” he mumbled, turning over.


End file.
